


One Suit, Two Suits (Black and Blue Suits)

by 15Acesplz



Category: The Producers (2005)
Genre: Autistic Character, Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Slash, Shopping, Tailoring, almost forgot to add that one!!!, the shippy part is very subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/15Acesplz/pseuds/15Acesplz
Summary: Now that they have a safe full of money just waiting to be spent, Max decides that Leo is in need of some new clothes.
Relationships: Max Bialystock & Leopold "Leo" Bloom, Max Bialystock/Leopold "Leo" Bloom
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	One Suit, Two Suits (Black and Blue Suits)

Max had been in a remarkably good mood all day – he was positively perky as he finished up a phone call to Mr. DeBris – and Leo knew it was thanks to the two million in cash sitting in the safe.

“Mm-hm, we’re all set to go ahead. We’ll be sending the funds over so the production team can get started. Okay, bye, now.” Max slammed the receiver down with gusto.

“God, I could sing!” he crowed. “Everything’s going to plan, we’ve got the dough – We should celebrate.” He suddenly looked Leo up and down with an air of determination about him. “Bloom, let’s buy you a suit.”

Leo followed his eyes, brow furrowing as he inspected his clothing. It seemed just the same as always. “I’ve already got a couple suits, though, I don’t really need –”

“Let’s buy you a suit _that fits_ ,” Max clarified. “No good reason for a producer to be wearing old shirts and cheap pants. You ever been to a tailor before?” he asked over his shoulder, heading towards the coat hook.

Leo shook his head. “No, but –”

“But what?”

“But shouldn’t we save the money until after the show? Once we’re certain that we’re home free, we could buy as many suits as we want.”

Max dragged a hand down his face in his typical dramatic fashion. “Oh, for God’s sake, let’s live a little! I’ve been living like a beggar, eating tunafish sandwiches every day for weeks,” he moaned. “I _miss_ having money.” He crossed the room with both their coats in his hand and a pleading look in his eyes. “Leo, darling Leo. Just one suit. Then I promise I won’t touch the money until we’re buying plane tickets.”

Leo could already feel his resolve crumbling; Max was awfully charming when he wanted something. “Just one suit?”

“One suit, that’s it. Come on, it’ll be fun!” Max jostled Leo by the shoulder, wearing an eager grin.

Oh, Leo just couldn’t disappoint him. “I suppose one suit wouldn’t hurt –”

Max clapped his hands together, cutting him off. “Exactly!” He tossed Leo his coat and donned his own. “It’ll hardly make a dent in our funds. And you won’t regret this. Once you get used to fitted suits it’s impossible to go back to ready-to-wear.”

They made their way out the door, and Leo was content to let Max talk his ear off from there to the curb. As they hailed a cab and got in, he found himself mirroring Max’s smile – his good mood was contagious. And beyond that, Leo had to admit to himself that he was a bit excited. He’d never before had an opportunity to buy something of higher quality than a department store suit. This was one part of being a Broadway producer that he’d dreamed about: having nice things. He hoped it would live up to his expectations.

Max directed the cabbie to an unassuming storefront on Arthur Avenue. There were three fine-looking suits displayed on mannequins in the window, and the sign hanging above the door said, ‘Marchetti’s Tailored Garments for Gentlemen’.

As soon as they entered the shop, a short, middle-aged man rushed over to greet them. His hair was a black horseshoe hugging a bald crown, and he wore oval-shaped spectacles and a long, canvas apron. “Ah, Mr. Bialystock!” he said, shaking Max’s hand with a genial smile. “It’s been quite some time, yes?”

“Oh, well, you know how it is,” Max said in a carefree tone. “Always busy running someplace or another.” He and the tailor shared a laugh, leaving Leo wondering if he’d missed a joke. Did the tailor know that Max had been too broke to buy suits? Leo decided to keep his mouth shut. “Bloom,” Max continued, “I’d like you to meet Lorenzo Marchetti. Lorenzo, this is my business associate, Leopold Bloom.”

With both of their eyes on him, Leo felt uncomfortably like there was a spotlight on him. He smiled at the tailor, hoping his nervousness didn’t show. “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Marchetti.”

Mr. Marchetti shook his hand with great enthusiasm. “Please, call me Lorenzo.”

“Lorenzo’s the best tailor from here to Lower Manhattan,” Max informed Leo, glancing towards Lorenzo with a smile.

The tailor took the compliment graciously. “You’re too kind, Mr. Bialystock.”

“Only as kind as you are talented!”

While Max was busy making nice, Leo looked around the showroom. It was not very large, but it felt opulent and intimate rather than cramped. The wine-red carpet and the dark green walls looked quite classy with the shining wooden cabinets lining the walls. The cabinets on one side were filled with bolts of fabric, and on the opposite side was a long clothing rack holding dozens of hanging suits. Not too far from the door sat a cluster of leather armchairs and a coffee table covered in men’s style magazines, and around the waiting area in an orbit were display cases of ties, cufflinks, tie pins, and pocket squares. On the far side of the room Leo could see a similarly aproned – albeit younger – man busy at a work counter, across from an enormous mirror and a couple dressing booths. When Leo looked up, he saw a chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.

He felt terribly out of place in his cheap, ill-fitting suit. Why had Max brought him to a nice shop like this? And now he was getting all flustered, and he was going to embarrass Max in front of his fancy tailor. No, that wouldn’t do. He needed to calm down. Leo shoved his hand into his left pocket and squeezed his blanket. He wanted to take it out, but holding it concealed in his pocket would have to suffice. He tilted his head, surreptitiously rubbing his ear with his other hand.

Just as Leo was starting to feel better, the conversation turned to business. “Now, what can I do for you gentlemen today?” Lorenzo asked.

“Well, Leo here’s never had a fitted suit and I thought I’d treat him to one.”

Lorenzo examined Leo’s suit with a discerning eye. “Hmmm, so I see,” he said. “No need to fret, Mr. Bloom. We’ll get you into something much nicer than this.”

Well, that was just a little bit humiliating. Leo did his best to laugh it off; judging by the finery all around them, the comment was certainly warranted.

“And nothing for you, Mr. Bialystock?”

Max rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a worrisome twinkle in his eye. “Well, I have been thinking lately that I could use a new suit…”

“What?” Leo pulled Max closer to him. “Max, I thought you said only one suit,” he said in an undertone.

“Yeah, one for each of us.”

“We really mustn’t spend all our money before the show’s even opened –”

“‘ _All_ our money’?” Max rolled his eyes. “Come on, Leo, it’s not like we’re spending thousands of dollars. We’ll have plenty left over. Just one suit for you and one suit for me, that’s it,” he begged.

Leo shot a look at Lorenzo, who was patiently waiting for their whispered conversation to come to an end. “Two suits, and that’s it?” Leo asked Max.

“You have my word.”

He looked so hopeful. Leo caved. “Well… if you say so.”

Lorenzo jumped back in. “Ready to begin? Excellent!”

Leo got measured first. Lorenzo instructed him on where and how to stand and called over his assistant. The assistant took notes while Lorenzo wielded the measuring tape, continuing to remark on the state of Leo’s clothing. He squinted at the safety pin filling in for the top button of Leo’s shirt. “So, you are not married, Mr. Bloom?”

“Um – No, I’m not.”

“Oh, it was not a question,” Lorenzo said breezily. He took a few more measurements, then stood back with his hands on his hips. “The jacket is just a touch too long, its shoulders just a touch too wide. And these turn-ups!” He gestured in dismay towards Leo’s trouser cuffs. “Too high. See how the socks show?” He shook his head. “These little things: they add up, Mr. Bloom, and in the end you have a suit that makes you look like a schoolboy not quite done with growing!”

All Leo could do was stand there on the stool with his arms held out straight, enduring the criticisms. Max hid a snicker, and Leo’s face burned.

At long last, it was Max’s turn to be measured. It was a much briefer affair, with Lorenzo merely making slight corrections to Max’s previous measurements. While he worked, he and Max discussed cuts and colors and various other things beyond Leo’s comprehension.

“I think something modern would be the most flattering on Mr. Bloom, don’t you?”

“Yes, definitely,” Max agreed. “Maybe dark blue. He likes blue; don’t you, Leo?”

Surprised that Max had noticed such a thing, Leo just nodded silently.

“And what for you today, Mr. Bialystock? The usual three-piece?”

“You know me too well, Lorenzo. I think black would look sharp – but maybe a bit plain,” Max mused.

“Might I suggest a very subtle pinstripe?”

“Perfect! Your genius continues to amaze me!”

Once the measurements were done, Lorenzo sent the assistant to fetch suits for their consideration. For what felt like ages, Max and Lorenzo discussed the minutiae of the different suits. Leo’s head spun trying to keep up, and he just nodded along while Max pondered the options for the both of them. They all looked more or less the same to Leo, but he knew that saying so would only further betray his ignorance.

Finally, the suits were chosen, and it was back up on the stool for fitting. “We’ll need to account for this posture of his,” Lorenzo told his assistant as he stuck pins in Leo’s suit. Leo resisted the urge to ask what was wrong with his posture.

They had a bit of a wait while the final adjustments were made, so they browsed the accessories in the showroom. Even if they weren’t buying any, Leo thought it was fun to window shop.

It soon became clear that Max had other plans. After less than a minute of perusing the displays, he picked up a navy blue tie with a geometric pattern and said, “Say, what do you think of this? Would look nice with that new suit of yours, huh?”

Leo couldn’t say he was surprised. “Max, what happened to only one suit for each of us?”

His partner immediately launched into an argument, as if he’d had it prepared. “Well, you’ve gotta have the things to go with it! Can you imagine wearing one of your second-rate ties with that nice new suit? Any old stuff you wear with it will stick out like a sore thumb! You’ve got to at least have one new tie, to match,” he insisted.

Leo sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, Max made a very good point. “Okay, a new tie.”

“And a pocket square and cufflinks,” Max continued. “You don’t have any at all, do you?”

Leo rubbed his forehead in exasperation. He knew already that there was no point trying to fight it, though; Max would just wheedle him until he got what he wanted. “I – No…”

“Then we’ll have to pick out those, too.”

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly.

“And some new shoes. You’ve got to have new shoes. Definitely a new shirt, maybe some new suspenders?”

Leo groaned. “Fine, fine, but we’re going to a department store for all that, you hear?”

“As long as they’re new,” Max said with a satisfied smile.

Max helped Leo pick out all the apparently necessary accessories, and before long the suits were ready. They paid and bid Lorenzo goodbye. The tailor caught Leo on the way out the door and told him sternly, “If you lose a button, you will come back to me for fixing. No safety pins on this suit!” Leo promised him, ignoring Max’s teasing grin.

They caught a cab back to Manhattan and headed to a department store for the shirt, shoes, and suspenders. Max cajoled Leo into getting some better dress socks, as well. It took him far less convincing; Leo found himself getting caught up in the fun of picking out new things.

“Where to now?” Max asked as they exited the store.

“Well…” Leo surveyed the many bags he was laden with. “I’d quite like to try all of this on,” he admitted. “Would you mind a quick stop at my apartment?”

Max held his hands out, smiling. “Lead the way, my dear Bloom.”

It wasn’t far to Leo’s apartment. It was just a few blocks from the Brooklyn Bridge, on a shabby little side street filled with a series of identical brick buildings. They climbed the narrow staircase up to the fourth floor – the elevator was perpetually broken – and Leo dug around for his keys, juggling the shopping bags. At last, he got his door open, and stepped in with Max close behind him.

“Well, this is it,” Leo said. He tried to see his living quarters through Max’s eyes. It was a sparse, boxlike studio apartment with a tiny kitchenette and an even tinier bathroom. Leo didn’t have a chest of drawers, so his bookshelf was half-filled with socks and underclothes. His tidy desk sat against the wall, next to the bed with its plain, impersonal bedspread. The only real noteworthy thing in the room was the matching pair of cat-shaped salt and pepper shakers on the small, square dining table.

It was so different from Max’s luxurious, spacious office, filled to the brim with photos and posters and elegant knick-knacks. Leo couldn’t help but feel embarrassed upon comparing them. He peeked at Max, who was looking around with a carefully blank expression. _Oh, God_ , Leo thought, _he thinks it’s a hovel._

Max caught his eye. “Relax, it’s not that bad,” he said dryly. “I’ve lived in shoeboxes in my day.”

Leo laughed nervously. It was far from the worst thing Max could have said.

“What’s with the kitty-cats?” Max gestured towards the salt and pepper shakers. “Doesn’t seem like your style.”

Leo could see what he meant; they must have looked pretty strange in his bare little bachelor apartment. They were white ceramic, with painted blue faces and blue flowers on their backs. “My mother gave them to me. I used to play with them at the table when I was very young. I’d make them talk to each other.”

“Oh, they were friends?” Max inquired, laughter twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Boyfriend and girlfriend, actually,” Leo said. Max outright laughed at that, which Leo supposed was fair.

“Anyway, weren’t you going to get changed?” Max reminded him.

“Oh, right!” Leo made to lay the garment bag down on the bed, then hesitated. Max was here. He couldn’t take off his clothes in front of Max. It wasn’t as if he could ask Max to leave the room, either – there was only the one room. He shuffled his feet, feeling his face redden. “Um… I’ll be right back.” He ducked into the bathroom, bringing the garment bag with him. He heard Max let out an amused scoff as he shut the door.

Leo got as far as the shirt, pants, and suspenders before getting tripped up. The fiddly little cufflinks seemed impossible to fasten, especially with only one hand. After fumbling with them for a good five minutes, he stepped out of the bathroom, cufflinks cupped in the palm of his hand. “Max?”

When Leo said Max’s name he turned quickly from the bookshelf, trying to pretend he hadn’t been snooping. “Yeah? What is it?”

“I, um… I can’t seem to – The cuffs…” He held up his wrist, the shirt cuff dangling loosely.

Max sighed and crossed the room to Leo. He took Leo’s hand and gently turned it palm up, plucking the cufflinks out of Leo’s other hand. He fastened the first one in a matter of seconds and proceeded to the second one, holding Leo’s hand steady with that same gentleness. Once it was done he patted Leo’s hand, looking up at him with an affectionate smile.

Leo wasn’t sure when – or for that matter, _why_ – he had started blushing, but he knew he must be from the way his ears felt hot. “Um – Th-thank you,” he stammered. What was wrong with him all of a sudden?

Max seemed to realize how close he was standing. He took a step back with an awkward cough. “You can probably take it from there,” he said with a wave of his hand. He sat down on the lone dining chair, avoiding Leo’s eyes.

Leo nodded, even though Max wasn’t looking, and retreated back to the bathroom. Once he’d closed the door, it dawned on him that he was decent enough to have finished getting dressed in front of Max. Then again, it was probably for the best that he had a moment to cool off his face.

Finally, he was fully dressed. He looked in the mirror above the sink, and his mouth dropped open.

He could only see himself from the waist up, and the mirror was dingy with toothpaste spatters, but what he saw still astounded him. The dark blue of the suit looked so clean and sharp against the new white shirt and made his eyes look bluer than usual. The suit jacket hung just so on his shoulders, and when he looked down he saw that the trouser cuffs rested perfectly against his shiny new shoes. Leo had always thought of himself as average at best, as far as looks were concerned, but dressed like this he felt… _handsome_.

Leo peeked back out of the bathroom, and stepped out fully once Max looked up. “How do I look?” he asked shyly, fidgeting with his sleeves.

For a moment Max just stared, eyebrows raised in an expression of surprise mingled with something else that Leo couldn’t pinpoint. Leo’s nerves spiked, but then Max laughed softly – not teasing like earlier, but genuine and kind. “You clean up nice, kid.”

Leo ducked his head, glowing under his praise.

“Jesus, it’s already suppertime,” Max said, glancing at his wristwatch. “We shopped the day away, huh?”

“Oh – I can make us something to eat, if you want.” Leo rushed over to the kitchenette and began rummaging through the cabinets. It’d been a while since he’d been for groceries, and the offerings were meager. “I’ve got bagels, and um… some canned things, and I think there’s a little bit of deli meat in the fridge –”

Max interrupted his flustered rambling with a wave of his hand. “Save your groceries, we’ll just order some takeout to bring back to the office.”

“You know, after all the money we’ve spent today, eating out again isn’t exactly the thriftiest choice,” Leo said, turning to face him with a smirk.

“True, but I’m not about to eat hot-ketchup-on-pastrami or whatever you were planning to scrape together,” Max quipped back without missing a beat.

Leo laughed. “What, you’d rather have noodles and egg rolls for the fifth night running?”

“You want my honest answer? Yes.”

“Well, then, let’s go, Mr. Big Spender. And don’t think I’ll let you cheap out on the tip, either,” he said, pointing his finger at Max. As they reached the doorway, he suddenly remembered something and dashed back to the bathroom.

“Your concern for the kid working the counter is touching,” Max intoned from the hallway, “but I don’t think he’ll miss my half a buck.”

Leo found what he was looking for: his blue blanket, nearly forgotten in the pocket of his old pants. “Oh, really?” he called back, smiling. “Hundreds of dollars on new clothes, and you won’t tip fifty cents?” He stowed the blanket in his new left pocket, and went to catch up with Max.

**Author's Note:**

> Once I noticed that Leo is wearing all brand-new clothes at the top of Act 2, I knew I had to write a fic about Max taking him shopping. I wasn't anticipating that it would be so long though!!  
> Some notes:  
> The suits they get are made-to-measure, which is a step up from ready-to-wear suits (with preset sizes) and a step below bespoke suits (which are entirely custom-made and take months to assemble)  
> Arthur Avenue is a prominent commercial thoroughfare in Belmont, a historically Italian neighborhood in the Bronx. Most traditional tailors in the United States hailed from either Italy or England.  
> Here is a picture of Leo's adorable salt and pepper shakers: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cf/3a/84/cf3a840fc53e4c56086e150cc8999c74.jpg  
> Aaaand, I think that's everything! Let me know what you thought in the comments! :D


End file.
